We've Got Tonight
by Lizwontcry
Summary: Grissom and Sara ponder the state of their relationship, then do something about it. Spoilers for 9x2, The Happy Place.


**A/N - Tired of Happy Place fics yet? I hope not! This is my contribution to the pile. Hopefully it will make up for the pit of desperation that was The Happy Place. Also, feedback is awesome. Thanks for reading!**

_I know its late, I know you're weary  
I know your plans don't include me  
Still here we are, both of us lonely  
Longing for shelter from all that we see..._

I need to go home. I've been here at the lab for what seems like days--possibly even weeks--and I need to go home. But what's the point? Nobody will be there. It'll be empty again, except for Hank's bitter disappointment that his lady owner is gone again.

She left.

Well, I suppose it's safe to say that she left _me._ This is different. This is not about having a mental breakdown and needing to get away before she explodes from the tension, like it was last year. This time she left because of me. Shame is what I should feel, I guess. Sadness, anger, frustration. Those are all things that I should be feeling, instead of this numbness that's taking me over. My life is literally starting to turn into a bad blues song...my woman done left me, the closest man I had to a son was dead, and my dog is an emotional wreck.

Hank was so happy that his Sara was back, he refused to leave her side. He curled up, as much as a 60 pound Boxer could curl up, at the foot of the bed when we were sleeping. He greeted Sara each time she came back to the house with such fierce happiness that it almost made me jealous. How easy it was for a dog to forgive the sins of the past, and how hard it was for me. We can learn from dogs, I think. I'm just not in the mood to take that lesson yet.

Sadly enough, I'm used to this numbness. It's what comes easiest to me; it's comfortable. The part where I have to be responsible to another human being about my emotions and my actions, well, that's the hard part. The most frustrating part about that is the fact I thought Sara and I had made it out of the woods. Even when she left for San Francisco, we still made it a point to talk every day, to email frequently, to visit every couple of weeks. Both of us were nervous that all the work we had done to get to this point would come unraveled with her absence, but we were working on it. For the first time in my life, I, Gil Grissom, was learning how to have a relationship! And I wasn't screwing it up!

But then Warrick died and everything I knew about life was proven wrong.

And Sara came back from California for Warrick, just like she did 8 years ago. It's the circle of life, right? It's fate, destiny, harmony. It's the universe's way of making sure Sara stays in my life. Of course she had the right to come back and mourn Warrick with the rest of us, and of course I was happy to see her again. The problem is, I found my rhythm with her being gone. I retreated back into my single man shell and got back into the groove of working every possible moment, and then when I was so exhausted I could barely see straight, I'd go home, walk Hank, listen to some Bach or Beethoven or Vivaldi, go to bed, wake up, do it all again. Don't they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks? Well, they're right. I tried and Sara tried and it worked, and then it all went away again and now here we are just like we were before she came to Vegas so many years ago. Except this time I wasn't her mentor and boss anymore. I was her fiancée, her lover, her friend. And I just didn't know how to be that person anymore.

So there we were her sitting across from me at my desk just like old times. She was revved up about a case once again. She was using her heart instead of her mind once again. It was so frustrating, and I tried to make her see that maybe her faith and confidence in people wasn't right this time. And instead I made her feel like her faith and confidence in _me_ was never right. I didn't mean to do that. I didn't mean to let all that bullshit come flying out of my mouth. But some of it, at least, is true. I do miss her. I do get tired of being without her. I do wonder why, if we're engaged, she doesn't want to be with me. No one has been able to answer that question for me, not even her.

When she left me in my office, staring at my alien-like green laptop as if it were the only friend I had left, I tried to shake it off. I could deal with this later. Right now, paperwork about the last case, the teacher and the student. But of course, as all things end up doing, it only made me think of her again. It's an endless cycle. I think of the teacher/student case we had just 2 years ago where a photography teacher was a little more than obsessed with her student, and of course that ended in death just like it always did when I got involved. And that makes me think of how just a day or so later, Sara asked, when wielding a straight edge razor, if I trusted her. _Intimately,_ I had told her. And I did. I do trust her intimately, and she's the only person in the world that I would even say that word to with any meaning. Does she know that? Do I tell her enough that I love her, that I trust her, that she's my one and only?

Thinking of that day brings me back _again_ to almost 4 years ago, before I got my head out of my ass, before the fateful night with Nick's abduction that changed everything. I asked Sara about her PEAP counseling, which I was genuinely concerned about. I was the one to pick her up at the station and take her home after her almost DUI, and while that did give me a much needed wake-up call to the state of her emotions, it still didn't knock me out of my blissful world of ignorance. But when she sat in front of my desk that day, looked me in my eye and told me with an equal mix of confidence and hesitance that I had always been more than a boss to her, it woke me up. Of course it took me another couple of months to actually do something about it, but give me some credit--at least I finally did.

So I sit here staring at the email I was writing her. The only words I managed to type were _I'm sorry..._ What do you say to the woman you could never say anything meaningful to? How do you acknowledge that you completely fucked up a situation, maybe even beyond repair? I had to find her. I had to make this work.

Closing my laptop, I grabbed my keys and took off like a shot. Nobody tried to stop me as I marched down the halls, not even Hodges. I was a man on a mission.

_Deep in my soul, I've been so lonely  
All of my hopes, fading away  
I've longed for love, like everyone else does  
I know I'll keep searching, even after today..._

"Damnit! Shit! Motherfucker!" I shouted at my dashboard. I punched the steering wheel a few times for emphasis. I have a bit of a potty mouth and somewhat of a violent streak when I'm angry. And right now? I'm angry.

It's not fair. You think you know somebody, right? I mean, what, he passive aggressively breaks up with me? By using a _case,_ of all goddamn things? I'm so tired of him trying to show me how he feels through the case of the day. I may be somewhat guilty of that--I did, after all, have him both tape me up and pin me down for 2 different cases, but it's not the same. Sometimes I think the only way Gil Grissom knows how to communicate is through his job. And I knew that when I signed up for this relationship, but I thought, like all women do at some point in their lives, that I could change him. For a while, I thought I did just that. And when I had my breakdown and left for California, I thought he'd understand. He went to Williams, didn't he? Just when our relationship was getting to the next level, he goes away for a whole month. He left me standing in the locker room, wishing with every bone in my body that the taxi was a lie and he was going to come back any second and take me with him.

It's not the same, our separate breakdowns. One night on the phone, I tried to make him see the difference.

"Gil, I left because I had to. I didn't leave you. I left me. Why can't you see that? There are too many memories in Vegas. There's too many ghosts," I told him, hoping he'd get it this time.

"What, there's no ghosts in San Francisco? Sara, you're with your mother. She _is_ a ghost."

Well, he was right about that. My mom and I were trying to find a balance, and it was not easy. Laura Sidle was still the same emotional, demanding, unrelenting mother I remembered, but everything else about her was different. She was independent and strong and courageous, everything I wanted to be but never quite achieved.

"That's...okay, that's sort of true. But she's the key to my past, and I told you, Griss...that's what I need right now. You leaving for a month to go teach bored college kids about mosquitoes is not the same thing as me getting my head together. It's just not."

"But I was also trying to get my head together. Didn't I come back to you, Sara? Didn't I come back ready to be what you needed me to be?"

I sighed. Why was this so hard?

"Can't you see that I'm trying to do the same thing? I can't be me in Vegas right now, honey. I'll come back to you, I promise. You are my destination. But for now...I can't."

That conversation hadn't ended well, nor did the conversation we had in his office before I left for the second time. After I asked him who he was talking about, he just stared at his hands like a coward. I could have said a lot of things at that point, but I saved us both time and just left. I used to think it was worth it. Maybe I've been wrong all these years. What a heartbreaking thought.

I went back to the townhouse (before I left, it was "our" townhouse), said a tearful goodbye to Hank, zipped my bag, and left again. This time I didn't leave a note, because this time, he doesn't deserve one.

_Why don't you stay,_ he'd asked. It reminded me of that old Bob Seger song, "We've Got Tonight." It was the theme at my prom in high school. I didn't go, obviously, but I can still remember thinking how depressing that theme was for a prom. I want to stay, I do. I want nothing more than to see him every day just like it was before. But that wouldn't be good for either of us right now. There's things I have to do. I wish he'd understand.

_You need more than just the safety of knowing that you are not alone,_ he'd said. /iMaybe he couldn't. Maybe he needed her to leave him./i Never have so few words incensed me so much. The man was just so frustrating!

So now I sit here in my car, wondering where it all went wrong. A year ago, I had been kidnapped and left for dead. And a year later, I feel worse than I did when I was lying under that car, summoning every bit of strength and survival I didn't know I had within me. Now, one of my best friends was dead; my fiancé needed me to leave him so he could move on, and...I hate to admit it, but I was wrong. Grissom was right, and I was wrong. Tom Adler turned out to be a liar, and I was reminded once again of why I abandoned my job as a CSI. I'm too trusting. I like to believe that everyone is inherently good, even though my job proves otherwise on a daily basis. Grissom knows this about me and tries to talk me down every single time, but do I ever listen? No. It's my way or the highway. And now, here we are. He's at the lab. I'm in my car in the parking lot. We're both so damn stubborn that neither of us is going to admit we're wrong. And what's worse, I don't even know if Grissom _is_ wrong.

I should go back to San Francisco. My mom is waiting for me there; we aren't done with each other yet. We still have more to talk about; layers upon layers of life that lay untouched in our conversations. But my mother can wait. I can't go back right now. I can't leave him again without some kind of resolution.

So I start my Prius and take it where I mean to go before I left town in the first place. He was why I came to Vegas 8 years ago, and he's why I'm in Vegas now. I go visit the grave of Warrick Brown, my fallen friend.

_I know it's late, I know you're weary  
I know your plans don't include me  
Still here we are, both of us lonely  
Both of us lonely..._

He drove to the cemetery like, as they say, a bat out of hell. He knew she planned to pay her respects before she left, but he wasn't sure if she was gone yet or not. If he knew Sara, she was probably halfway to California by now. But he took a chance, and he found her.

Sara was sitting in front of Warrick's tombstone, legs pulled up to her chin. From behind, she looked so serene and peaceful. He wanted to put his hand on her shoulder, assure her that it would be okay. But he couldn't find his words, so he listened to hers.

"I am so sorry, 'Rick. You didn't deserve to go down like that. You were a good man, and now you have a son who will grow up knowing his daddy was a hero. You left your mark on all of us. There's a hole in the universe that will never be repaired because you're gone."

Grissom took a step closer, sensing she was finished. But she wasn't; not yet.

"And I want to thank you. Thank you for everything you've done for me over the years. You've shown me that people don't always live up to first expectations. People can grow and change and become something better. You did that, Warrick, and even though you had some obstacles there in the end, you were an amazing example to all of us. And, well, I want to thank you for Grissom. Thank you for being there for him when the rest of us couldn't be. Thank you for being his rock. Thank you for bringing us closer together when we needed it the most. And even though..."

Sara sniffed. She took something out of her purse and blew her nose. She took a second to collect herself before she continued.

"Even though Grissom and I...well, whatever happens with us, I want you to know that if it wasn't for you and the way you turned your life around, we might not have gotten it together enough to fall in love. I know I'm rambling, but wherever you are, Warrick, know that you left an indelible mark."

Grissom had seen Sara cry plenty of times over the years. The only thing he wanted to do was comfort her; wipe her tears with the palm of his hand. He knew it was impossible to show how much he cared for her, but by wiping her tears away, he hoped she'd understand. So he sat next to her by the tombstone. If she was surprised to see him, she didn't act it. She leaned into him as he wiped her tears away gently.

"I'm sorry--" They both said at the same time. They both laughed, knowing how stubborn they both were yet how eager they were to settle their differences.

"You go first," Grissom said shyly. Sara grinned for a moment, and then blew her nose again. When she talked, her face grew somber. He would do anything to make her smile again.

"I got ahead of myself again," she started. "I got ahead of myself, and I was wrong. And I realize I should have taken a second to listen to you, but Pamela Adler? I've dreamed about her over and over and over again for so many years, and seeing her again was almost surreal. I wanted to believe Tom so much. So I was wrong about that, and I was wrong to ignore what you were saying for my own agenda. But..."

He looked at her expectantly. She thought for a second he would finish that sentence for her and take responsibility for what he said, but obviously not. So she went on.

"But what you said was out of line, too. It's so hard to play a game where I don't know the rules. It's hard...to be in a relationship with so much passive-aggressive bullshit. I mean, Gil, if you want this to be over...just say the word and I'm gone. But I just have this feeling that...that you don't want that? That you're not ready to give up yet?"

She asked it like a question, so if he didn't answer her now--well, she'd just scream. See how he likes that.

"You know me, Sara," he said finally. "Conversations like these aren't my strong points. To answer your question, the last thing I want to do is give up on...us. I know I haven't been the best about understanding your need to be away from here--from me. But I feel like we're at an impasse. I'm here and I'm not ready to leave, and you're in San Francisco and don't want to come back here. So, I must admit that I have no idea what to do in this situation. Obviously I'm not handling it well, but this shouldn't surprise you."

"No, it doesn't surprise me, but I was hoping that we were past this," she said gently. "I thought we were beyond that stuff. I thought--"

"Sara, I held Warrick in my arms as he died. I was with him when he took his last breath. I looked in his eyes when McKeen was standing over us, and you know what I saw in those eyes? I saw complete and utter fear. I'm sorry that I was a passive aggressive bastard, but...it's not that easy right now. I have to live with that image, and it haunts me."

Sara's heart broke for him.

"Oh, God, I know. I know you're trying to deal with so much right now. But let me help you. Come with me, Gil. It doesn't have to be the Galapagos. We can go to Reno or L.A. or, hell, Summerlin. Let me take you away from this sad, soulless town. Let's start over somewhere else. A new start, doesn't that sound good?"

He nodded, but she knew he couldn't commit to anything yet. She wouldn't make him.

"Just tell me you'll think about it," she said softly.

"I will," he said. "I have been, and I will continue to think about it. But for tonight...Sara, come home tonight. Let me make it up to you. I'll even make the pancakes you like so much."

"With the chocolate chips?" She asked hopefully.

"Obviously," he said.

They smiled hopefully. Sara followed Grissom home, to _their_ home. He turned off his cell phone and made her pancakes. They made love. They watched their favorite guilty pleasure movie, Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Nothing was said about the future or the past, and in the morning, they said a tearful goodbye.

Eventually, Sara would convince Gil to come with her, and it would be sooner than either of them thought. But for now, they would live day by day, knowing that the best was yet to come.

_Turn out the light, come take my hand now  
We've got tonight babe  
Why don't you stay?_


End file.
